An Army of One
The major problem in the US these days in many ways parallels the paradox at the heart of the pagan community: just how does a collectivity of self-centered, radically-individual individualists actually manage to hold together?
Alas: without some sense of overarching, shared identity, it usually doesn’t.
Reductionisms
With Pride Month now in the rearview, I confess myself, frankly, a little sick of flags.
The My-Own-Very-Special-Identity-of-the-Week flags that sprang up all over the neighborhood in the course thereof remind me in many ways of that silly hanky code that someone concocted during the Oh-so-cruise-y pre-AIDS 70s, the color and placement of the hank telling the viewer exactly what permutation of sex you were looking for. I’ll spare you the specifics.
Never bothered to learn the hank-code myself, just as I’ve never bothered to learn the list of the supposed 72 different genders either. (Sorry, waste of brain-space.) Ye gods: no wonder people vote Republican.
Really: just how self-absorbed, privileged, and entitled are we? In Gaza, children are starving to death.
Flags, flags, flags. Me, me, me.
Welcome to the Great Splintering: the Way of Atomization.
Earth-Horse, Moon-Horse
So I commissioned my own flag.
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